Collections
by Spicas
Summary: Missing moment from 901. Harvey comes over to Donna's apartment, but she's already asleep.


_A/N: Just a little something I wrote really quickly to go as a missing moment from 901 - since in the sneak peek for 903 Harvey says he and Donna haven't spent a night apart yet, meaning they did spend that night he called saying he couldn't come over in 901 together. This wasn't even proof-read completely so just put up with me, please lol let me know your thoughts and let's hope we'll have a good episode tomorrow :)_

* * *

**Collections**

There's a cactus keychain dingling with the keys as he exits the car, nodding at Ray and walking inside the apartment building. The cactus had made him smile. It was deliberate, he's sure of it. Because of the keychain or Ray's smiling face maybe — leave it to Donna to already be plotting things with his driver less than 24 hours into their relationship.

"Hey, Jimmy," Harvey greets the doorman, who's been working at Donna's building for a few years at least.

"Evening, Mr. Specter," the man nods back.

Harvey thinks it must mean something that he knows him by name even though he's only been here a handful of times, but he's grateful he has permission to go up without them ringing Donna. There's a weariness in him when he reaches the elevator; his phone tells him it's half past midnight, and he's glad he grabbed a burger on his way over. The keys are still heavy in his hand; his other hand is carrying a duffle bag with a spare change of clothes. Ray will bring him a suit early tomorrow.

He's as quiet as possible as he reaches number 206, the cactus keychain making him shake his head slightly; the hallway inside Donna's apartment is dimly lit by a single lamp, which only confirms his suspicious that she's been expecting him somehow.

Her bedroom is dark, though. He opens the door slowly and sees her in bed, her red hair all over her pillow as she sleeps on the left side of the bed. Even in that way it seems they're meant to be — he sleeps on the right side of the bed himself.

He's not surprised to find her asleep, though. It's what he expected and instead of being disappointed he thinks it's actually endearing that she's allowed her to see her like this — vulnerable, asleep. It's an intimacy they never had before, and one he never even allowed himself to dream of. He passes her adjacent closet without turning the lights on until he reaches the master bathroom, quickly shedding his suit and going for a quick shower. It's been a long day, and even though he barely slept the night before and he hasn't been in his own apartment for over two days, he feels at home. He feels _alive_.

There's a fresh towel for him and a brand new toothbrush on the sink. In past relationships, this would have given him pause. Now, it just fits. It's everything he's ever wanted but could never admit or go after.

He puts on his boxers and brushes his teeth, turning off the lights before opening the door to Donna's closet. She hasn't moved from her position in the bed, still facing the wall. He walks around the bed, puts the suit he had been wearing on the chair, and plugs his phone to a charger on the right bedside table — clearly something Donna thought of as well. He turns off the phone too — just in case. He doesn't want to be interrupted tonight.

The bed dips slightly but not enough to disturb her. He gets comfortable and debates embracing her while lying on his back, not wanting to wake her, but she makes the decision for him when he hears movement and sees her shifting close to him. An arm sneaks around his waist and her head rests next to his. He presses a kiss to her temple and moves to lie on his side to face her. She smells fresh and flowery and of herself, a scent he's never forgotten and will always recognize.

"You said you wouldn't come over," she mumbles softly, her voice heavy with sleep. She hasn't opened her eyes yet.

He's pretty sure he keeps thinking she won't get any more beautiful but then he sees her again and she dazzles him effortlessly once more.

It should be overwhelming, maybe. But to him it just feels right. It feels… long overdue. And like this is where he should be for the rest of his life.

Right by her side.

"Someone forgot her keys in my car," he whispers his reply.

"That's convenient," she replies with a low chuckle. The sound has got to be one of the most beautiful things he's ever heard. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," he nods, and finds her concern touching. She hasn't done much of that since she stopped working for him. And then, it was more out of duty and friendship. Now it's about being free to share the affection and concern and comfort. "Ray will bring me some suits to leave here tomorrow. Is that okay?"

She nods, her nose touching his neck. "That's okay. I'll get a few clothes to leave at your place too."

He falls asleep with her arms around him and his lips near her hair and a smile on his face.

* * *

He wakes the next morning one hour before his alarm, and the first thing he notices — better yet, the first thing he _feels _— is a body draped over his and kisses on his neck.

He's smiling even before he opens his eyes, and what a sight is waiting for him when he does.

Donna pulls away when he lets out a groan, and she's the first thing he sees: hair all wild and beautiful, the eyes without her usual makeup, rosy lips that form a smile when her eyes meet his. She's straddling him, wearing a satin light blue nightgown, one of its strings slipping off her shoulder. He's not completely awake yet, even if certain parts of him are definitely awake, and settles his hands on her hips and watches her. She looks almost ethereal in the early morning light.

It's been thirty-six hours, but he's already realized he can watch her do just about anything and he won't get tired of it.

"Good morning," he says first.

There's a glint in her eyes that he hasn't seen a lot in the past twelve years. It makes him kick himself for not making her happy before — it also makes him a little proud that maybe he has something to do with the happiness she's feeling these days. Just like she's the reason behind his own happiness.

He truly can't care less about anything else that isn't her. Not when she looks like this — not when she looks _at him_ like this.

"Good morning," Donna whispers, her palms splaying on his chest. He moves his hands downward slightly, just to feel the skin of her thighs. "You did come over."

"Did you think it was someone else in your bed last night?" Harvey grins.

He thinks she'll say something funny back — maybe tease him, and he'll say something back too, because that's just their thing — but she has a different look in her eyes, biting her lower lip and running her hands down his chest and then moving them to his sides.

"I thought maybe I had dreamed it," she admits, eyes tentative over his. "Then I woke up and you were here."

"You plotted the whole thing with Ray," he gently accuses, not caring about it at all — he actually likes it. He likes that Ray likes her, and he likes that she feels sure enough to have tried this in their so new relationship. He loves that about her. "Gotta say, I liked it."

"I'm glad you did," she smiles.

"Wanna know what else I like?"

"Do tell."

"This nightgown," he says, admiring the way the lace met the silk in the light blue fabric. He particularly likes how well it suits her breasts and collarbone. "Really like it."

"Ah, well. Can't sleep naked all the time like the other night," she shrugs, but he knows better. She's far too happy with herself.

"That's just a shame. 'Cause I like what's underneath the nightgown too," he adds. "A whole lot more, actually."

"A whole lot more?" she repeats, arching her eyebrows. "Well, I should do something about that."

Her hands leave his abdomen and reach for the hem of her nightgown, slipping it off with an ease that mesmerizes him; it joins his suit from the day before on her chair. He knows Donna for so long, and he simply knows her — loves how unapologetic she is, loves how confident she is. He loves her like this, naked and dishevelled and with want in her eyes. He's pretty sure he looks the same — hair sticking out in weird angles, sleep in his eyes, a lot of want too. He's not yet used at her — for a moment he isn't sure where he should look; he watches her chest, notices the rosy nipples and remembers how her breasts fit in his hands the night before. He groans when he notices she's not wearing any underwear, and he tries not to groan again when she purposefully moves her hips a little — right above his own boxers and an already straining erection.

For a moment, he just looks — then his hands join the fun, pulling her hips that little closer, and he uses the grip he has on her to sit up. Donna smiles at him, arms resting lazily on his shoulders. His palms shift from her bottom to her breasts.

"Hi," she says when their eyes meet, almost shily.

"Hi," he says right back, and then he kisses her.

They kiss like they do everything else, he thinks — it's slow and intense and overwhelming and yet not enough. It never feels enough. Soon her hands are gripping his shoulders and she's pulling away when one of his hands runs down her side.

A giggle escapes her.

"Sorry," she mumbles against his lips. "Ticklish."

Just another Donna fact to add to the collection. He wants at least one per every day for the rest of his life.

Of course, he does it again. Watches the way the hairs on her arms stand up and she squirms against him.

"Harvey!"

He chuckles against her ear, moving his lips to pepper her jaw with kisses. He hears every sigh and feels every pull against his hair or his skin when he does something right. They've known each other for so long, and yet they still have so much to find out about each other. One night twelve years ago hadn't been enough — he's pretty sure the (hopefully) countless nights they have ahead of them won't be either.

He makes his way downwards to her collarbone, and she's arching her back; it only takes another movement for his lips to find a nipple, and he feels it harden against his mouth as he sucks. Her breath falters and he notices; he lets go and leaves open-mouthed kisses in between her breasts, only to take the other nipple into his mouth as well. This time a moan escapes her, and her hips move involuntarily against him; he pulls away only to blow air onto her skin. One of his hands move to the other breast and the other remains grounding her, gripping one of her cheeks.

Harvey isn't surprised when he feels a hand between their bodies. She's a woman of action, after all.

He hisses when he feels her hand against his hardness, freeing him only partly because of his underwear — he feels the way she moves her palm around him then pumps him a few times, and he knows he's too sensitive in the early morning and he's been missing her for all of twenty-four hours and he doesn't want to waste any more time.

So the hand on her bottom moves under her, finding her almost ready for him; he works her a little bit more, just to send her close to the edge, inserting a finger and then two, his thumb moving to her clit a little clumsily due to the position. He knows he's doing something right because her own hand stops moving and he knows just how amazing she is at multitasking.

He looks up at her then, and she nods, both her hands now cupping his cheeks to kiss him. They don't have to talk to know what the other wants — they simply know. They're still kissing when he pulls his fingers away and she's lifting herself only just enough so that he can enter her — only then they do pull away, and he hears a throaty moan from her as she slides down on him. It feels just like it did twelve years ago and the previous night, only… better.

He wonders if it'll just keep being better all the time.

She feels tight and slippery around him, clenching him just the right away, and he hisses, pressing his hands on her hips and urging her down, down, until he's deep inside her. It's only a moment before they move again — a quick moment, but her eyes are dark when they meet his, her lips are full and pink and they fit so well together he just knows sex will always be this good with her. The moment is lost when she shifts, changes the angle slightly, and he thrusts up, a bit too forcefully maybe because she yelps and her nails dig into his shoulders.

"Sorry," Harvey mumbles. They're still finding out new things about each other. He keeps repeating this to himself — he wants to know everything about her, intimately — what she's done, what she wants to do again, what she wants to try with him.

Donna simply shakes her head, and looks him right in the eye. "Do that again."

He complies; this time instead of a yelp there's a moan. It takes them a few tries but soon they've found their rhythm, and it's fast and sweaty, with her chest rubbing against his, her hair tangling in the sweat of his own skin. He keeps wanting to touch her — everywhere, all at once, just to make sure she's real. His palms feel her breasts, her long hair, her bottom, the flex of her thighs as she moves with him. He feels her hands in his hair and his shoulders, around his back.

It doesn't take long for him to feel the tightening deep inside him and he knows he won't last long, reaching between their bodies to touch her again. She comes faster than he's expecting, clenching around him, almost falling against him, thighs slackening slightly. He holds her as she comes, feels the shudder of her body and the way her hands are holding him, almost too forcefully. He keeps thrusting, still fast, because he knows he won't take long now, not when she's still gripping him like this, still and unmoving above him, and before long he's coming too, filling her up and spilling inside her.

He buries his face in her hair, breathing her in, her chest still reverberating against his as she catches her breath. She relaxes after a moment, sitting slightly back, and he's still inside her and he wonder if she still thinks his body is an extension of hers, because he's never fit with anyone the way he does with her.

"Think I'll keep coming over whenever you want me to," he breathes against her skin.

Donna laughs. He realizes he's never heard her laugh so much as he's done in the past day and a half, when it's just them.

"Whenever you want to, you'll be welcome," she replies, moving her head to press her nose against his cheek, then her lips. "You know those keys are yours."

"The cactus keychain was a nice touch," he notes. He realizes she almost always had a key to his place, but he never had one to hers.

"Thought you might like it," she's smiling as she says it.

"Let's go to my place tonight," he suggests. "You can use your key and I won't be surprised about how you got inside for once. You can see our cactus and all."

She arches her eyebrows. "_Our_ cactus?"

Harvey shrugs. "I always thought of it as a little bit yours, anyway."

Her eyes are unwavering over his. Watching carefully. It used to intimidate him in the past — he used to be afraid of what she might say or do. Now he wants her to say it, whatever's on her mind. The smile is still there, but there's a glint of tears in her eyes and he doesn't want to make her cry, not for any reason.

"What is it?" he asks softly.

She closes her eyes, shifting a little — they both know they'll have to move soon — and when she opens them again he sees only happiness.

"I'm just really glad you came over," she answers, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. "Let's take a shower. We need to get a move on soon."

Harvey groans, pressing his lips against her shoulder. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, we do," she laughs. "Come on, lover. We still have that shower and there's always tonight."

She gives him one more kiss and they part slowly, just enough so that they can both stand up. He takes off his underwear and grasps her hand before she can walk ahead of him, body turning slightly so that they're facing each other. She giggles against his lips when he tries to kiss her again and urges him to move or Louis will come over looking for them again. He doesn't want to be apart from her, but the knowledge that tonight is only twelve hours away gives him hope.

He's pretty sure he never wants to sleep without her again.


End file.
